


Reactive devices

by Liviapenn



Category: Marvel Ultimate Universe, Ultimate Fantastic Four
Genre: Boarding School, Bullying, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-28
Updated: 2004-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-04 01:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liviapenn/pseuds/Liviapenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kissing to be clever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reactive devices

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime during the years when Reed and Victor were students together at the Bax. Thanks to Sarah T. for audiencing and beta.

Reed had been walking and brainstorming in his notebook at the same time, but he had to stop and look up when he reached the doorway that led into the ninth-floor common room. It was unusually noisy; the rain was sheeting against the east-facing windows, and half the Bax's experimental propulsion students seemed to be crowding the long tables and sprawled across the couches. There must have been a test-launch cancelled because of the weather, Reed thought, and frowned. He was usually pretty good at blocking out distractions, but if an entire propulsions crew was going to hang out and sulk, he'd find someplace else to think.

Behind one of the couches, a couple of the older students were huddling over some kind of structure. Despite himself, Reed took a step further into the room. He peered over the shoulders of a couple of fellow students at a strange construction made of leftover pizza boxes, duct tape, and two curved pieces of plastic that looked oddly familiar. Reed had to stare for a while before he realized that someone had unscrewed the shades from the light fixtures on the west wall.

"What are you looking at, Richards?" someone snapped. Reed jerked back, pulling his notebook closer to his chest. Ezra Crossley sneered at him, standing up and dusting off his hands. Reed stared back. Old habits died hard, but the kid who just put up with crap like that-- that was the old Reed, the one from before the Bax.

"I don't know. Is it supposed to be a rocket?" he asked idly.

"Is it supposed to be a rocket?" Ezra mocked. Reed sighed inwardly. The students cooking up new kinds of jet fuel did tend to be high-strung.

"Did you ever consider working on something more stable? Hypersonics, maybe?" he asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Please. That crap's almost as bad as your N-zone bullshit." Ezra crossed his arms over his chest. "Why don't you consider working on something more practical, like cold fusion? But I guess then you wouldn't get to spend so much time with your boyfriend."

Reed blinked several times. A chorus of hoots and 'oooooh' noises echoed over the rain still washing down in waves over the thick glass. He kept his eyes on Ezra, refusing to look around at the audience that had apparently decided that the current conversation was more interesting than pizza-box rocketry. "What?"

"Spill, Richards. Is he a good kisser?" Ezra grinned, leaning against the back of the couch. Reed's face was heating up. It was a stupid, childish reflex. Still, he honestly had no idea who Ezra was referring to. Of course he was used to being called gay-- he _had_ gone to a public school. But who had he ever been close enough with to be accused of being _boyfriends_? The only person Reed could think of was Johnny Storm-- and the only reason Johnny spent any time in the same vicinity as Reed was because the N-zone was Professor Storm's pet project, so that was totally explicable without resorting to weird theories like secret boyfriends.

"You know, I've got no idea what you're talking about," Reed said.

"C'mon, Reed. Why else would Van Damme be working on a boondoggle like _dimensional travel?_ Not because he thinks it's _practical_." Ezra snickered, and Reed couldn't help it, his jaw dropped. He wasn't sure what was more infuriating-- the implied insult to the N-zone project, or to Victor. "I mean, damn, Reed, he can't be after your brains. He's pretty much gotta be after your--"

All of a sudden, Ezra stammered and shut his mouth, standing up straighter. The students who'd been hooting also shut up, some of them sliding back down behind the couch or attempting to look casual, like they hadn't _actually_ been watching Ezra poke Reed with a stick. Nothing else was needed to complete the total flashback to middle school, except of course for Reed to look over his shoulder and see Ben, scowling and rolling up his sleeves. But of course it wasn't Ben-- it was Victor.

His expression was unreadable. He took Reed by the elbow, and for a moment Reed thought Victor was going to just drag him out of the room, pulling Reed along on one of those dignified exits that Victor always managed so well. But Victor only pulled him back one step, then pushed Reed so that his back was against the doorframe. His other hand darted at Reed's face, and Reed had lost too many pairs of glasses to schoolyard bullies to do anything _but_ flinch, and then Reed's glasses were gone and _what_ was Victor doing? He hadn't thought--

And then his mouth dropped against Reed's, warm and soft. Reed tensed, toes curling inside his sneakers, but Victor had moved his hand up to Reed's jaw, holding him still. His grip was hard, implacable but not painful. Reed's mouth was still half-open to protest the theft of his glasses, and Victor's tongue brushed against his. Reed felt as though his face were on fire. He tried to gasp in a breath without-- without-- he didn't know _what_ he was trying to do, except that he definitely wasn't trying to push Victor away.

Victor made a soft noise, a tiny 'hm' against Reed's tingling lips, then pulled back. Reed inhaled sharply, dizzy with the kissing-- that was kissing! Victor! Was kissing him!-- and the sharp, definitively masculine scent of Victor's aftershave.

"As a propulsions systems engineer, Crossley, you make an excellent annoying simpleton," Victor said, then glanced at Reed. "Richards?"

Reed stared back, not sure what Victor meant, or wanted. Victor just rolled his eyes, grabbed Reed's elbow and oh, okay, apparently now they _were_ making one of Victor's really good dignified exits. Reed only stumbled a couple of times, and reminded himself that really, it wasn't his _fault_. Victor had a long stride. And he still had Reed's glasses.

Victor let him go about halfway down the hall, and continued making his way towards the elevator. Reed followed him. "Hey!"

He darted into the elevator just before the doors slid closed. Victor punched the button for the fourth floor, senior dorms, then glanced down at the glasses in his hand as though he had no idea where they'd come from. He handed them to Reed carelessly. Reed put them on, ignoring the way his stomach jumped as the elevator started to sink down.

The world snapped back into focus. He was standing very close to Victor. He didn't back away. "What was that, Victor?"

If he hadn't known better, he honestly would have said Victor was smirking. His hands were tucked carelessly into his pockets, and he was leaning against the brushed-metal wall of the elevator as casually as if he hadn't just nuked his social reputation, and Reed's too. "Crossley goes out of his way to annoy you. Yes?"

"Well, I guess," Reed said. He hadn't really thought about it. The Bax was better than a lot of places-- the Bax was probably the best place in the world, at least in Reed's opinion. It had been good for him. But people were still people, and it was like Reed's own personal law-- Richards' Law of Social Hierarchy. Wherever three or more humans were gathered, Reed would be the goat. "You get used to it."

Victor gave Reed an impatient look, the kind of look that implied that Reed was obviously being slow on purpose in order to be annoying, but that Victor saw right through it and was unimpressed. "The Institute promotes academic competition as a way of increasing the average student's motivation to produce. You and I are not average, Richards. I see no reason to put up with this childishness."

"Yeah," Reed said, "but, Victor. What you, I mean-- Now he's just gonna be--"

Victor sighed, flickering his eyes upwards again, and Reed shut up. "_Academic_ rivalry is encouraged, and as long as Crossley's behavior could be defined as such, you had no recourse. However, _harrassment_ based on certain particular idiosyncrasies is expressly forbidden. Should Crossley make himself difficult in the future, I expect you to make use of the tools that the Bax has put at your disposal and have him expelled."

Reed blinked a few times. "Would they really--"

"Your work is of infinitely more value to this institution than his dabbling. Of course they would." The elevator doors opened, and Victor brushed past him, heading out into the hallway.

There were other students passing by, and Reed froze, not sure if he wanted to be seen chasing Victor after the scene in the common room. He waited too long, though, and then the doors started to close and it was definitely too late to jump out and run after Victor without calling even more attention to himself.

He did it anyway.

"So what you're saying is that you only--" He gestured wildly. Victor didn't look at him. "In order to give me ammunition in case I want to exploit the Bax's anti-discrimination rules?"

"Once again, your ability to grasp the obvious proves to be somewhat adequate to the task," Victor said wearily. He paused in front of his own door and stared at Reed, wordlessly telling him to go.

Reed stared back. He'd never seen the inside of Victor's room before. He hadn't thought Victor ever actually spent any time there when he wasn't asleep.

Victor, it appeared, wasn't about to invite him in on a tour. "Was there anything else--"

Reed put a hand flat on Victor's chest, clutching his notebook tightly with the other. He pushed Victor back against the door and kissed him, flinching as his glasses bumped Victor's face. Victor was obviously more practiced at this than he was. If he'd thought about it, which he really hadn't, Reed probably would have expected that maybe the second time wouldn't be so disorienting, so all-consuming in a way very few things were. Victor's mouth opened under his, and Reed tilted his head the same way Victor had before. He found the better angle, then ruined it by smiling against Victor's mouth. Kissing Victor was like looking at the images from the N-zone that the oscillation camera projected; rolling and dizzying, with no sense of scale, nothing to judge proportion or distance by.

He pulled back. He was blushing again. Victor's eyes were wide, and Reed's heart did the reflexive flip that it did whenever he managed to put that look of surprise in Victor's eyes.

"See, what you were doing there was implying that I _need_ your help to handle a jerk like Ezra, which I _don't_\--"

"Yes," Victor said, his voice strangely quiet.

"Or that I'd have to resort to-- to hiding behind regulations, just so--"

"Of course." Victor squared his shoulders, then frowned, glaring at someone down the hall. Reed heard footsteps hastily retreating, but ignored them.

"I mean, Ezra, he's nothing, you know? I don't need to use the fact that I'm working on Professor Storm's pet project as leverage to get him expelled. He's not--"

"I understand." Victor said. Reed watched his throat move as he swallowed.

"Do you?" he said. All of a sudden, he wasn't exactly sure _he_ did. Victor had kissed him as, what, a favor? Victor didn't _do_ favors.

And Reed had kissed him back to prove... what?

"There are other reasons you might want to kiss me," Reed said, and Victor turned a sharp gaze on him.

"I admit that I've presumed on you," he said, eyes narrow, "but now _you_ presume, Richards, and--"

"Oh, come off it. _You_ kissed _me!_ And it's not like I'm hideous!" Reed said. At least, he didn't think so.

"You are not--" Victor stared at him, then shook his head, turning the doorknob to his room with a sharp click. "I am not having this conversation here."

"Good idea," Reed said, and followed him in.

Victor didn't turn around. Reed closed the door behind himself, studying the short, close-cropped hair at the back of Victor's neck. Watching the slow movement of his shoulderblades under his blazer as he slipped his hands into his pockets again.

"So," Victor said.

"So," Reed echoed. His glasses were smudged. He pulled them off and polished the lenses with the hem of his sweater.

"No longer concerned for your reputation?"

Reed could almost hear the smile in Victor's voice. "I guess," he said thoughtfully, sliding his glasses back on, "I basically just want you to admit that I'm cute."

Victor snorted, his head dropping towards his chest. "It does not take a psychology major--"

"Yeah, yeah," Reed said. His first couple of years at the Institute, he'd been through enough therapy on the Bax's dollar to know where Victor was going. "I take my positive reinforcement where I can get it, okay? Come on, Victor. Think of it as an indication of how much I respect your perceptive faculties. Just tell me I'm hot and I'll be out of your hair."

Victor muttered something to himself that sounded like 'if only.' He was silent for a long moment after that. Reed grinned to himself. There really wasn't a _lot_ that was more fun than making Victor speechless, even if it never lasted for very long.

"You know you want me," he added, grinning, then jumped, startled, when Victor turned around. There was a dark, focused look in Victor's eyes, a grim set to his jaw that Reed had never seen before, not in the entire year or so they'd been working together.

"I will admit," he gritted out. "At times-- for reasons that have nothing to do with your spiritless approach to interpersonal conflict--"

"Yeah?" Reed said, or very possibly squeaked as Victor took him by the jaw again, cupping Reed's chin in one long-fingered hand.

"For instance," he said, smiling narrowly, "I find myself in this moment _singularly_ motivated to--" He pressed forward, and this time the kiss was like an attack, a sharp sting that Reed felt everywhere. Victor's tongue pushed into his mouth, hard and wet and hot. Victor's hand slid into Reed's hair, knocking his glasses askew. He dropped his notebook, then grunted as Victor sucked at his tongue. Victor echoed the sound, hoarse and uncontrolled, sucking harder until Reed pulled back. The kiss broke noisily. Reed closed his eyes, flattening both palms against the door to keep from sliding down to the carpet in a heap.

Victor breathed hotly against his lips, then pulled back, resting his face against Reed's. His chin brushed the side of Reed's face, and Reed leaned his forehead tentatively against Victor's cheekbone.

"To-- quiet your arrogant mouth," Victor finished, although a little more breathily than he'd begun.

"Jeez, Victor. It's always gotta be all or nothing with you, doesn't it?" Reed swallowed and straightened his glasses, which were smudged again. He left them on.

"What other ways are there? That was rhetorical," Victor added as Reed opened his mouth.

"I knew that!"

"Of course you did." Victor's eyes drifted down, dark lashes making him look sleepy, or cunning. He was looking at Reed's mouth, Reed realized. He hadn't thought he had any more blushing in him, at least for the time being, but he could feel his face trying to give it a shot. "I hope this means," Victor murmured, "that you'll at least consider taking action against Crossley should he make a nuisance of himself in the future."

Reed rolled his eyes and bent to pick up his notebook, smoothing the bent pages carefully. Then he blinked. "So, uh..."

"Yes?"

"He's not _right_, is he?"

"Not often, I imagine," Victor said, mouth quirking.

"No, I mean about you. You're not just..." Reed frowned. "I mean, you're not just working on the N-zone project because you want, or you thought-- I mean, you _do_ think my theories are valid, right?"

Victor sighed. "Go away, Richards."

"Come on!"

"Am I to be the sole support of your meager self-esteem?" He turned the doorknob, pushing the door open and causing Reed to stumble out into the hall. "I believe that's what your dog is for! _I_ will not fawn on you, if that is what you think--"

"Victor," Reed said firmly, catching the door before Victor could really get going. "Do you think my theories are valid?"

Victor glared. "Of course."

"Do you want. I mean..." Reed tilted his head. Somehow Victor's scowl was a bit less intimidating than usual. He smiled. "I mean, as long as everybody's going to be talking about us anyway..."

"They'll have something else to talk about tomorrow when Crossley's rocket explodes on launch," Victor said, and Reed blinked.

"How do you..."

Victor smirked. "He's not as smart as he thinks he is, Richards."

Reed crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his notebook under his arm. "You know, at this point you really need to start calling me Reed already."

"We can discuss it," Victor said. "Later." He closed the door.

Reed stared at it, then pulled out his notebook and tried to remember what he'd been working on. Sometimes there was something that looked like weather in the N-zone, sheets of light and flurries of half-transparent bubbles expanding and falling like glitter in a snowglobe. Reed loved watching it, because where there were complex systems like weather, there might also be the possibility for more complex systems, like life. But lately he'd begun to suspect that most the movement and change being perceived was due to wobbles in the focus of the Bax's oscillator camera. It would be disappointing, if it were true, but maybe-- He chewed on his lip, then raised a hand and knocked on Victor's door.

"What?" Victor shouted through the door.

"I need a pen! Do you have a pen?" Reed called. There was something that sounded like a muffled curse from inside Victor's room, and then a scuffling noise. The door opened a crack and a pen sailed past Reed's head into the hall.

"I'm glad this hasn't changed our working relationship!" Reed called through the door. He picked up the pen and wandered back to the elevator, jotting down the remains of his thought. Maybe he could score some lab time tomorrow with the neutron microscope.

Or maybe he'd go watch Ezra's launch.

Victor might be there.

Reed made a note at the top of the page to that effect, brushed his fingers idly over his lips, and headed off to the lab.


End file.
